Stood Up

Stood Up
Ingrid

Somehow, Kaloni manages to squeeze even more activities into my schedule after I pass that message to Cirocco.

The night of pampering is an absolute frenzy, noblewomen attempting to slip off to bed before Kaloni or one of the other women she has clearly deputized lassoes them back in for another round of primping. Lady Evangeline is there, of course, though she’s notably not one of Kaloni’s posse. I almost wish she was. Then, maybe every other woman in a fifteen-foot radius wouldn’t be compelled to talk about the exact same nothing as she does. Tucking myself in a corner with Sibel or Liwar or—during her brief appearance—Joli doesn’t even save me. People seek me out to drag me into new and worse inanities.

When I finally stumble out of that powder-choked room, the sun is rising, and Kaloni catches my arm. With a voice like she’s just had the best sleep of her life, she informs me that she’s cleared her schedule to ensure the last day of wedding preparations goes exactly as planned.

I seriously consider just screaming in her face. Full volume, as long as my voice will hold out. Just to see what she’ll do.

But instead, I let her whisk me off to breakfast—another parade of dignitaries, all the lucky men who actually got to sleep last night—and then a florist, the kitchen to give final approval for the menu, and my final fitting. Every Goddess-damned time I turn around, there she is. Always smiling. When people can see us, she glows like a proper sister. When they can’t, she smirks. The stars will disappear from the sky before I stop wanting to tear that smirk off her face with my claws.

And I don’t. It almost seems to frustrate her. We have lunch, at least partially, with Kieran and Raven, and I catch them both shooting me confused looks, like I’ve been replaced by an exact copy of myself who somehow has all the manners and patience Mother tried to teach me.

That doesn’t bother me either. Because I know I’m just counting down the second until tonight. Until I can escape these walls, escape Kaloni’s ever-watchful eye, and kiss my mate again. Every petty jab is just another minute passed before I get there.

Goddess, I deserve some kind of medal.

But finally, finally, night falls. Kaloni squeezes in a last few activities, which are complete nonsense. A blessing that hasn’t been done in so long that Halit struggles to read the faded handwriting. I have to approve the chairs for the banquet hall. And then I’m free. I flip Recai a salute as I enter my room, wishing I had the key to lock the door. According to yet another “ancient rule” Kaloni dredged up, Cirocco is the only one allowed to carry it.

Cirocco isn’t here yet. I was counting on him to help me with this next part—but it’s for Amval. It’s to stop the constant throb of worry in the back of my skull that I am risking my mate and his whole kingdom on another stupid bet. I take a deep breath, open the window, and stare down at the trellis Joli arranged to have put in.

Fuck me, the ground is far away.

I climb out the window. My stomach pitches. Hands, feet—where are those? I can’t move. I am going to fall.

Follow my voice, Amval says in my memory.

He’s not here to catch me when I jump this time. Instead, he’s waiting for me in that tiny hole of a cave. Counting on me.

You can do it.

For him, I can.

Slowly, painfully, I scale down the trellis. Every twitch of the wind makes me sick. My vision spins like it’s trying to knock me off on purpose. But I reach the ground.

Not just reach it. I drop to my knees and kiss it just for being flat. Getting back in when the only thing waiting for me is a surly soldier and a fake wedding is going to be harder, but that’s a problem for later.

For now… Amval!

I take Joli’s hidden door out of the retaining wall, strip, shove my clothes into a bag, and shift. The night wind tears through my fur as I run. The throb of my worries, my mark, my sleepless headache all die down as I draw closer. The hills feel like old friends. I pelt up to the mine, through the pattern of traps Joli taught me, and push the false rockslide aside.

And no one is there.

I shift. This can’t be happening. I scaled a fucking tower. He has to be here.

“Amval?” I try to say, but there’s a breath caught in my throat, so it comes out as a pitiful whisper.

Shockingly, he doesn’t emerge from a nonexistent corner with apologies on his lips.

No.

I tear into the cave like there’s somewhere he could hide. Things scatter in every direction. My voice comes back to me at some point, which I only know because I just start muttering his name like a spell. Like if I say it enough, he’ll return. He’ll never have been taken.

But slowly, I realize there’s no sign of a struggle. Everything is neat and folded. Even the fucking rockslide was in place.

And then I find the diagram. A twisted mirror of the one I had, the one Kaloni destroyed. Except, instead of showing all the obvious connections between her, Corwyn, and Astralis, it attempts to exonerate her. It shows every way the real enemy could have gotten her, everything they could have held against her.

He doesn’t believe me. He lied.

And now, he’s gone. Not kidnapped. Not missing. He fucking left.

My blood boils.

I destroy the ridiculous drawing in the dirt, grab every scrap of evidence that he was ever here, and throw it out of the cave. A net trap captures his worthless bag of supplies. The metal jaws of a foot trap scythe out of the dirt and shred his veil. If he wants to risk his life with Kaloni, so be it, but he’s not dragging his siblings down with him. I slam the rockslide back into place, shift, and run back to the palace.

The trellis seems like a complete waste of time now. He wanted me to trust him? He should have stopped fucking lying. Goddess, all the time and effort we put into keeping this ridiculous secret was all for nothing. I put on my underdress, slip through the servants’ door, and find a maid’s uniform in that tiny, awful room I started my stay at Som Palace in.

How much have I endured for him? I should have stayed at home. I would have been better off never knowing what his laugh sounded like or how his fingers move over the strings of a naqun like they do over my skin.

I have to warn the other two.

Disguised, I storm through the palace, not to Joli’s bedroom, but to the tiny, abandoned workshop on a low floor of the palace she admitted to me after she smuggled Amval out. What feels like half of our plan waits there. I shouldn’t be going there myself—she’s the only one who can actually navigate this nightmare without being seen—but fuck it! Amval already saw fit to abandon our plan. It doesn’t work without him.

I shoulder open the door, and Joli jumps, throwing her hands defensively across the sprawl of paper in front of her.

“Ingrid?” she says.

“He’s gone,” I spit. “Your fucking brother lied, and he’s gone.”

“Gone?” She closes the door behind me. “As in… missing?”

“As in, he still thinks he can trust Kaloni, and he ran away to test his luck.” Rage boils under my skin. “He lied. To my face. Again.”

“How sure are you?” Joli frowns, worried. “No one knows about the cave. The only way they could have found it—”

“They didn’t find it!” I shout. “Everything was perfect. Just the way he always leaves things. If he could have folded the burlap sack, he would have.”

“That sounds like Amval.” She gets off her stool but doesn’t approach me, like I’m some kind of wild animal.

Maybe I am. My hands itch for something to shred.

“How do you know he lied?”

“I found his so-called proof,” I sneer. “He was trying to explain how Kaloni was blackmailed. Still. After telling me he believed she did this.”

“Maybe—”

“Maybe nothing!” The way Joli almost flinches, then stands her ground makes me sick, but I will worry about that later. I’ll apologize later. For now, I can only burn. “I’ve watched him do this before. Time and again, he gives into the mate bond, only to choose her over me. Well, this time I’m not waiting for him to realize the truth.”

“What does that mean?” Joli asks.

“Warning Cirocco,” I say, “and then going ahead with the plan as much as we can.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “But we need—”

“Not anymore, we don’t,” I snarl. “I’m sorry your two oldest siblings are worthless.”

I storm out of the workshop, swirling with the same rage I carried in with me. It scorches me all the way upstairs, to the bedroom I should be asleep in. Recai is standing gua—Recai is fucking sleeping, leaning against the wall outside my room. The sword on his belt gleams, and I consider for a long, long moment that I could just grab the damned thing and run him through with it. Kaloni has so many pets. She won’t miss just one, especially with her absolute sucker of a brother dropping himself right into her lap.

The sound the sword would make unsheathing is the only reason I instead creep past him and try the knob. Unlocked. I fucking told Cirocco we should lock the door. No matter how safe he’s used to feeling here—

I bluster inside and discover the real reason the door isn’t locked. My precious would-be husband still isn’t here. I saw his schedule when I got dressed this morning. He was done with all his Kaloni-assigned activities at least an hour ago now.

I snatch one of his silky pillows off the couch and shriek into it as loudly as I can.

The only reason Cirocco wouldn’t be here is if he’s fucking helping Amval. I knew he wasn’t fully convinced either, but at least he didn’t lie to me about it. At least he said he was going along with things until he was convinced one way or the other.

I just thought he was smart enough to realize the truth staring him in the face.

Pieces of the maid uniform fly as I shed them. No point in hiding them now. Kaloni is probably sleeping blissfully right now, certain that she’s already won. And I’m glad she is. Let her rest on her laurels.

Because I don’t need Amval or Cirocco to save their Goddess-damned kingdom for them.